


static electricity

by robokittens



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, jeaneren week 2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-17 19:10:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1399243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robokittens/pseuds/robokittens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a collection of (unrelated) works for #jeaneren week!</p><p>1: shitty college kids<br/>2: shit let's go to prom<br/>3: must be more than this provincial life<br/>4: versus<br/>5: people cooler than jean kirschtein: literally everyone<br/>6: turn and face the strain<br/>7: cheating</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. flirting (college au)

**Author's Note:**

> _what's going to be the death of me? / static electricity. / what's making me take it all too far? / you are. / you are._  
>  \-- the mountain goats, i love you. let's light ourselves on fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Jean had realized that getting an apartment with Eren's best friend would involve this much Eren being in his face -- literally, it seems -- he'd have stayed on campus.

"Seriously, dude." Eren folded his arms on the back of Jean's sofa, leaned over it so his face was next to Jean's, practically. "I can one hundred percent promise that she's not into you."

Jean slouched further down, until his butt was practically hanging off the cushion and his face was nowhere near Eren's. His shorts were kind of riding up uncomfortably, but whatever. "Ugh," he said. "The fuck do you know. And who invited you here, anyway?" He didn't bother asking who Eren was talking about; there was no need to.

"Armin," Eren said. His tone implied it should be obvious, which, realistically, it probably should have been: if Jean had realized that getting an apartment with Eren's best friend would involve this much Eren being in his face -- literally, it seems -- he'd have stayed on campus. 

"Is Armin even _home_?"

Eren ignored Jean's question, planting his hands on the back of the sofa before vaulting over it -- literally vaulting, like this was some parkour-type shit, because the weird fuck couldn't even sit down like a normal person. "Seriously, dude," he said again. "You should probably quit hitting on her." 

He shifted around, settling right next to Jean except actually sitting upright so Jean would have a great view of his nipples if he looked over. And if Eren weren't wearing a shirt, which thankfully he was. 

"A)," he continued, "it's super creepy. And two, she's kind of a lesbian, dude. I mean, she's bisexual but I've never known her to actually _date_ a dude, you know? And if you tell me you just want to fuck my sister, I will totally kill you." His tone is conversational, his foot hitting Jean's calf with the same lazy beat.

Jean looks up, finally, tilting his head back so he can actually see Eren's face instead of his torso. "Your sister's a dyke?" There's no malice in his voice, no force behind the insult; he's saying it just to rile Eren up, the same reason he ignores Eren's indignant noises to say, "What, does it run in the family or something?"

Eren stops talking, and his grin is so wide it's almost a little unnerving. His foot kicks against Jean's calf again -- or brushes it, really; he lingers a little. "Yeah," he says.

"What?" Jean asks,

"Yeah," Eren says. His bare toes stop tickling against the hair on Jean's legs as he slouches further down until he's level with Jean again. "It runs in the family."

If Jean turned his head again, he'd be pretty much in Eren's face. So he doesn't. If he moves down any further he'll be off the sofa, and sitting up would be too much effort, so he stares at the TV and pretends he can't feel Eren's breath in soft puffs against his face, can't feel Eren's thigh pressed flush against his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one's a day late but i was at work all day whatcha want


	2. pranking (high school au)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean smirked at him as he leaned out the door of the stretch Hummer. "Get in, Jaeger!" he called. "It's prom night!"

It started, weirdly enough, with them making out on the dance floor at their senior prom.

Which probably should have been enough to tip everyone off: they'd been mortal enemies for four years, and had exchanged more dirty looks than civil words -- or angry words, for that matter. They hadn't had any classes together this year, thankfully, and they weren't in any of the same clubs; the only activity they shared, during or after school, was detention.

Technically, detention was where it started.

"I have a great idea," Jean whispered. Ms Ral had stepped out of the room for a minute, so he could have spoken at a normal volume, but better safe than sorry.

"No you don't," Eren said shortly, and continued drilling a hole in his notebook with a pencil. "All your ideas are shit."

Jean sighed, harsh and annoyed and more than a bit dramatic. "Fuck you. I have a great idea for a senior prank."

Eren twisted around in his seat -- Jean was behind him, two rows back and a seat over, which was a configuration that was somehow supposed to keep them from fighting. Aside from one spitball that didn't even hit Eren in the head, it mostly worked.

He stared at Jean, and Jean smirked back. " _What_ ," Eren finally snapped, impatient.

"Let's go to prom together."

" _What_?" Eren's impatience shifted into incredulity, and his eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "That's. You've had a lot of gay ideas, but that's the literal gayest."

"No, fuck you Jaeger." Jean rushed on before Eren could make some terrible fucking-based joke. "Listen. Everyone knows we hate each other. I don't have a date to prom, and unless I'm mistaken you don't either."

"We're going as a group," Eren mumbled; Jean knew that meant 'no,' and kept going.

"Nothing changes until day of, but we show up together in a limo, matching suits, boutonnieres, the whole deal. At least one slow dance. Maybe pretend to kiss at some point, I don't know. And the next day …" He trailed off, grinning. "It's like nothing ever happened."

Eren looked impressed. Surprised that Jean could come up with something this intricate, and kind of horrified at the concept, but impressed.

"Lemme think about it," he said. There was a creak as the classroom door opened, and he whipped around in his seat. Ms Ral raised an eyebrow at him, and he smiled innocently back at her.

 

;;

 

"Oh my god," Eren said, not sounding suitably wooed. 

Jean smirked at him as he leaned out the door of the stretch Hummer. "Get in, Jaeger!" he called. "It's prom night!" This thing had cost a fortune, even with his dad knowing the rental guy, and he was going to be doing dishes, laundry, _and_ mowing the lawn from now until he went to college ... but it was all worth it for the look on Eren's face.

Until Eren smirked back at him. "Get out, Kirschtein," he said mockingly. "My mom wants pictures."

All the blood drained from Jean's face; he could feel it. And from his brain. And his heart, probably, and his faith in humanity. "Fuck," he breathed, and stepped out of the limo.

Eren's suit was black and Jean's was navy, but they were the same cut and they wore the same forest green tie they'd picked out on Amazon. Carla Jaeger cooed over them as she took pictures, and when Jean finally insisted loudly enough that they really needed to get going, she clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm so proud of you two," she whispered. "I'm glad you finally figured it all out."

Eren tugged on the collar of Jean's jacket, pulling him along backwards, so that he had to twist himself out of Eren's grip before his suit ripped. He didn't get to ask what she meant.

They settled in in the back of the limo, glaring at each other from opposite couches. Jean popped a bottle of non-alcoholic sparkling juice. 

"Let's do this," he said grimly, handing Eren a champagne flute and raising his own.

"Let's do this," Eren agreed, just as darkly. They clinked glasses, and Jean cursed profusely as juice spilled down his shirt cuff.

 

;;

 

The intrigue in the air was almost palpable. Jean couldn't stop grinning as he walked into the room, his arm around Eren's waist, Eren's around his shoulders. Everyone -- literally everyone -- at least 90% of everyone -- was staring at them. More than one jaw actually dropped. They were fashionably late, they were moderately fashionable, and they were definitely the center of attention.

It was awesome. 

They ran into Armin and Mikasa first, and Jean knew there was no getting out of this one -- for Eren. "I'm gonna go get us some punch, babe," he said, and kissed Eren on the cheek, and fled. ("What are you --" he heard as he walked away as fast as his uncomfortable dress shoes would allow, Mikasa somehow managing to strike that I'm-not-mad-I'm-just-disappointed tone that Jean honestly hadn't thought anyone but a mom could do until he'd met her.)

The punch bowl did not provide the refuge he'd been seeking. Marco was standing there, talking animatedly with Mina (her hair in a fancy updo and looking absolutely lovely, even if Jean wouldn't say so since he'd embarrassed himself hitting on her sophomore year) and Annie (whose dress made her look totally hot, until you realized she hadn't shed her bitchface for the evening).

"So," Marco said. Jean smiled at him, in a way that was supposed to be charming but probably ended up more like constipated.

"How's it going," Jean said. "Sorry, I better -- I gotta get this back to Eren. You know how he can be." He lifted the punch cups in demonstration, and quickly added, "Great. That's how he can be. Great. I gotta -- I gotta go."

He turned around, punch cups still aloft, only to find Annie blocking his way. Shit. He hadn't even seen her _move_.

"How long have you two been together?" she said sweetly. It was, frankly, terrifying.

 

;;

 

Eren danced like he did everything else: enthusiastically, whether he had any talent or not. Which he didn't, Jean noted with some satisfaction. Jean wasn't much better, but he _was_ better.

He had a spin with Mikasa, over Eren's objections; Annie let him borrow her date for one song, and went to dance with Berthold while Jean and Mina made a terrible attempt at keeping the beat (and Annie and Bertl dancing very seriously to Kanye West was an image that would stay with Jean forever); Marco pulled him aside at one point for a waltz, which was predictably equal parts terrible, awful, and entirely inappropriate to the Top 40 megamix playing at the time: so that was his major crushes of his first three years of high school settled. He hadn't expected any sense of closure from prom night, but there it was.

Mostly, though, he danced with Eren. They danced like they fought: equal parts push and pull, give and take, constantly trying to upstage each other. Jean won the breakdancing competition by not competing, as Eren was awful enough to lose on his own. 

They were actually grinning at each other on the dance floor, both genuinely enjoying themselves as they made an honest effort at dancing. Eren spun Jean around in an exaggerated swirl, then pulled him back close against him, his hips pressed flush against Jean's ass, transitioning seamlessly from a bad attempt at swing dancing to an embarrassingly off-rhythm grind.

The song ended, and Jean had every intention of excusing himself -- to the bathroom, maybe -- to anywhere where he didn't have to deal with the sudden realization that he'd enjoyed dirty dancing with Eren Jaeger. And then the DJ chuckled into her microphone and said, "Here you go, kids," and Jean's stomach dropped.

"No fucking way," he said, at the same time Eren said "Is this--" right into his ear, and then Steven Tyler cut them off altogether.

Jean turned around, which was his first mistake. "We gotta," Eren said, draping his arms over Jean's shoulders. "This was your idea." His eyes gleamed with the reflected light of the disco ball.

"Oh god," Jean said, and put his hands on Eren's hips. Eren grabbed one of Jean's hands and pull it further around his own waist; Jean stepped closer obligingly, hands resting in the small of Eren's back, and leaned his head on Eren's shoulder. "I hate this song," he whispered into Eren's ear.

"Everyone hates this song," Eren whispered back, and they swayed together awkwardly as Steven assured them of his reluctance to miss a thing.  
"  
The song finally ended after what seemed like an eternity, and was replaced by yet another terrible pop remix. Eren's arms were still draped over Jean's shoulders. Jean's hands had moved back to Eren's hips, but he hadn't moved any further away.

"We should," he began, and stopped.

Eren nodded, and Jean could feel the air displaced by the gesture against his own face. "Yeah," Eren said. Neither of them moved.

"It was part of the plan," Eren said after a moment, and Jean made a noise of agreement. He closed his eyes, partially because he felt he ought to but mostly because he couldn't stop staring at Eren's mouth. They flew open again as Eren gripped his face in both hands, pulled him closer, skipped right over the gentle-peck-on-the-lips stage and bit Jean's bottom lip aggressively.

Jean had every intention of telling Eren to go fuck himself, but the moment his mouth opened Eren dove in, kissing him hungrily. His left hand tightened on Eren's hip; the other slid down to grip his ass and pull him closer.

Eren made a pleased noise into Jean's mouth and surged even closer. His hands slid down to Jean's shoulders, gripping them tight enough to wrinkle the fabric of his dress shirt.

" _Jean_." Eren's voice was suitably wrecked when they pulled apart for air. Jean smirked at him, but the effect was ruined somewhat both by his harsh panting and the fact that their foreheads were still pressed together.

 

;;

 

"There were some flaws in the plan," Jean admitted. 

Going to prom was a privilege, apparently, not a right, and they'd earned it by agreeing to an extra five days in detention.

Eren laughed; Jean wasn't sure if it was at his statement, or the fact that he'd been watching Jean rub anxiously at the hickey on his collarbone through his shirt. "Like the six hundred dollar fucking _humvee_? Or the fact that every single one of our friends is going to make fun of us for the rest of eternity?"

"That too," Jean said, and took a deep breath, steeling himself. "But I meant the part where I said we should pretend like the whole thing never happened."

Eren twisted around further in his seat, eyes wide and a doubtful cast to his lips -- the lips that Jean, fuck everything, hadn't been able to stop thinking about. They didn't look red and raw anymore, and he wanted to fix that.

"I don't think anyone's going to let us forget," Eren said tentatively.

"No, I mean --" Jean exhaled roughly. "Nevermind." 

He turned back to the homework he'd been steadfastly ignoring as he'd stared at the slope of Eren's shoulders, imagined the texture of Eren's hoodie under his fingertips.

"You wanna --" Jean looked up at Eren's voice, and looked immediately down again; the asshole was biting his own lip. "You wanna do it again sometime? Not -- I mean, not prom, but --"

Jean looked up again. Eren's lip was starting to redden, and his eyes were bright despite the scowl he was trying to maintain. It was -- fuck, okay, Jean needed to just admit it to himself -- it was hot. 

"What are you doing after detention?" he asked. Before Eren could say anything they heard the creak of the door opening, and Eren swiveled around in his seat just in time. It was okay. Jean knew what Eren's answer would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'i don't want to stress out over this,' i said. 'i'll keep them all under 500 words,' i said.


	3. denial (post-canon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are crops being grown in Maria again. It's a good thing, a sign of progress, like the children underfoot young enough to have the names of Eren's friends, dead or wounded -- of war heroes.

They've settled in Neustadt, a small town in southeastern Maria territory populated mostly by survivors and soldiers. Their pensions are generous enough that they don't have to work, and they don't, mostly. Jean's taken a Garrison job, for something to do -- it's a different job these days, cleaning and repairing streets and public buildings as well as the Wall, but Neustadt's too far inland anyway, no Wall for miles.

Eren doesn't leave the house much. He goes to the market most mornings, buys vegetables and bread, meat and sometimes cheese. There are crops being grown in Maria again. It's a good thing, a sign of progress, like the children underfoot young enough to have the names of Eren's friends, dead or wounded -- of war heroes.

They were my friends too, Jean tells him, and Eren hmms, chops more vegetables and adds them to the pot on the stove. He's making beef stew tonight, Jean's favorite. He's becoming quite a cook.

About once a month, they receive -- Eren receives -- a telegram from Armin. He's in Mitras now, an advisor to the Queen, too far to visit regularly. It seems that Bajek makes as good a regent as she had a Commander, and Armin often says he wishes he'd been able to fight with her before she'd taken over for Commander Smith. He says Commander Smith is doing well. He still calls him Commander; they all do. 

There are a lot of things Armin doesn't say, people he doesn't talk about. Eren will go into town, to the telegraph office, to reply. Jean never sees what Eren says. He has no idea if Eren talks about him.

There's a bar that's next to the Garrison post, and Jean goes there some days after work. The bartender is a fat old man named Gustav, and he looks exactly like a small-town bartender should. His wife is named Ilke, and she is also fat and old. Their daughter is named Antje, and only a few years separate her from Jean but she seems much younger. She likes to flirt with him when he comes in, teases him about Eren. Your wife feeds you well, she says, and pokes at Jean's stomach, but he's a recluse! You'd come out more often, if not for him.

Jean resolves to exercise more. His work now isn't as strenuous as the military had been, and he's let himself go. A girl could look past a knee that will never work right again, but there's no excuse for a soft stomach. Eren's never complained about Jean's knee, or his gut. Eren looks past a lot of things, these days.

Most evenings when Jean gets home from work, there's dinner making, or waiting, or on the stove if he's home late. Some days he gets home and the stove is cold and the larder near empty and Eren is already in bed, if he ever got out at all. 

It's one of those days. Jean takes off his shoes and puts them neatly by the front door; they need to be cleaned, but it can wait. He hangs up his coat and his jacket, pulls his suspenders off his shoulders and unbuttons his shirt as he makes his way to the kitchen; there's a bit of cheese on the counter, and it's going warm but he eats it anyway. It'll be no use tomorrow.

The bedroom is dark when he gets there, shutters drawn and lamps unlit, so he takes off his shirt and his trousers and puts them away by memory, and climbs into bed in his undershirt and drawers. Eren is there, but Jean can't tell if he's awake or asleep. He curls in close to him either way, arm splayed over Eren's chest, cold feet nudging up against Eren's warm ones.

Hey, Eren says, voice sleepy and a bit confused and full of more affection than Jean's heard in a while. You're home.

Sorry I woke you, Jean says. He leans in, kisses the nape of Eren's neck. I love you.

He can feel Eren's pulse rise beneath his arm, against his lips. Eren doesn't say anything.

Maybe he's fallen back asleep, Jean thinks, and maybe he has.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my notes for this one basically read "post-canon??? erejean alpha couple fic" but shockingly i did not write this while listening to tallahassee.
> 
> i picked the name gustav literally at random, and when i googled it to double-check that it was german (or at least germanic) i discovered that there are six gustav jägers famous enough to be on wikipedia. this has no relevance to the story whatsoever, but it made me laugh.


	4. free space!!! (comic shop au)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean notes with a sense of relief that they've finally gotten volume three of Saga back in stock before he remembers to be terrified.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, i thought, how self-indulgent can i get?

"Okay but," Eren says from behind the register. His feet are propped up on the desk; if their boss is watching the cameras, he's in so much trouble. "Wolverine versus The Hulk."

"Fuck no." Jean doesn't even look up from where he's rearranging comics in the Kidz Korner. Goddamn kids keep messing up the order of the My Little Ponies books. "I am not getting into this with you. I am so mad at myself for getting you this job right now. First of all, why would they even be fighting? They're both Avengers."

Eren scoffs, taking his feet off the desk to sit up straight. "Have you ever even read a Marvel comic? Why _wouldn't_ they be fighting? Also, it would be awesome."

"It would _not_ be awesome."

"C'mon! The Invincible Hulk --" ("He's Indestructible right now," Jean mutters, but Eren ignores him.) "-- versus an immortal, untouchable badass? It would be awesome."

Jean finally looks up from his reshelving. "Seriously? Wolverine's not immortal. He doesn't even have his _healing factor_ right now; he's just an angry guy with claws."

Eren groans, and starts to lean forward over the desk. He almost knocks over some promotional postcards, and picks them up and taps them against the desk, as much to annoy Jean as to realign them. "That's a recent development! C'mon, I love Cornell as much as the next guy, but you know it's not gonna stick. Half the X-Books ignore it anyway. You can't go against decades of established canon to use that as your shitty excuse."

Jean throws his hands in the air, and the covers of some Li'l Gotham issues flutter alarmingly in his wake as he stomps toward the front of the store.

"Excuse for _what_?" he spits. "Excuse to end this shitty fucking fanboy debate? Excuse to punch your _entirely-not-indestructible face_?"

"Fucking try," Eren says. He smirks, and leans back in the chair again.

Jean is still spluttering incoherently, pressed forward on the balls of his feet and looking about ready to jump over the desk, when their boss walks out of the back room.

"Both of you shut the fuck up or you're fired," Levi says with an alarming calm. Eren sits up straight in the chair and Jean stands at attention as he walks past them toward the New Trades shelf. Jean notes with a sense of relief that they've finally gotten volume three of Saga back in stock before he remembers to be terrified.

"Hulk vs Wolverine has over five million Google results," Levi continues, still not looking at them, "and an animated movie. If you're going to fight, find something more interesting to fight about."

It's not until Eren asks who won that Levi finally turns around to face them.

His eyes narrow even further, and Eren shrinks down a little in his seat. "Jaeger," Levi says, "If I hear one more piece of shit dribble from that anus you call a mouth, I will personally kill you. And Kirschtein?"

"Yes, sir?"

"I don't care if he is your boyfriend, I am never hiring anyone you recommend again."

"Yes sir!" Jean narrowly resists the urge to salute.

"Now get to work!" He strides back into the back room, leaving Jean and Eren alone in silence.

"So," Eren ventures after a moment. "What if --"

Jean balls up a promotional flyer and whips it at his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're not involved in comics fandom here is everything you need to know: http://ourvaluedcustomers.tumblr.com/post/57709601053/youre-doing-it-wrong
> 
> also i totally wrote like 90% of this on the shop computer between ringing up customers, so i didn't even get to read like half my books this week. the sacrifices we make for art, &c.


	5. jealousy (a different high school au)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean walks by Hange in the hall, and they high-five him as they pass. _I just got a high-five from the school nurse for not getting beat up for an entire week_ , he thinks. _This is my life_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK U [CHEX](http://archiveofourown.org/users/provetheworst) LIFESAVERRRRR
> 
> also tw for blood/probably-wildly-inaccurate medical ... stuff. nothing gross or very specific but it comes up like a lot.

"Maybe if you weren't such a fucking nerd," Marco says consolingly.

Jean glares at him, but the effect is somewhat mitigated by the fact that he has both hands cupped around the lower half of his face in case his nose and/or lip decide to start bleeding again.

"You're a bigger nerd than I am," he says. It's decidedly muffled. _Yew a bigga nerd den I am_.

"Yeah, but people like me. I'm a _lovable_ nerd." Marco reaches over and ruffles Jean's hair, and Jean can't even retaliate in case he starts leaking blood again. Marco is a lovable nerd, though. That much is true. That's why he's here, waiting with Jean outside the principal's office, to help him plead his case and hopefully not get detention.

Which would be fucking unfair, anyway. It wasn't even like Jean got into a _fight_ (which would be kind of cool, and maybe he should try it next time). He literally got slammed into a locker door for no apparent reason, which the hall monitor who'd been roughly a yard and a half away could attest to if said hall monitor hadn't been making out with his girlfriend at the time (thanks, Franz, seriously, _that_ asshole should get detention). He didn't even see who did it: how could he have gotten in a fight with someone he didn't even _see_?

Marco ruffles his hair again. He probably shouldn't be able to tell that Jean is fuming when Jean can barely make facial expressions, but that's what friends are for he guesses.

Through the smoked-glass door that separates the principal's office proper from the waiting area, Jean can see Principal Smith pacing. "-- _understand_ that, Mr Jaeger, but what I need --" His voice, which for a moment had been loud enough to hear, quiets back down.

"Whoever's in there now must be totally fucked," Jean says, the thought cheering him momentarily. He pulls a hand away from his face to check, and when it comes away clean he decides three and a half solid minutes of no bleeding is safe enough, and leans his head against Marco's shoulder. 

 

;;

 

Who'd been in there turns out to be Eren Jaeger, who Jean has only even heard of because he's friends with Marco's friend Armin, and who is in fact totally fucked. 

"Has anyone ever been expelled from AcaDec before?"

Marco smacks Jean's hand away from where it's prodding at the stitches in his lip before replying. "At our school? Not that I know of."

" _Shit_ ," Jean says with a touch of admiration. "What even happened?"

"Apparently he's less into debating and more into shouting at the other teams in an attempt to goad them into a battle to the death?" Marco shrugs. "Armin doesn't usually exaggerate so probably that's literal. Wait, let me find the text." He pulls out his phone and starts scrolling through it. 

" _Shit_ ," Jean says again, touching his lip gingerly while Marco isn't looking. "That's awesome."

Marco doesn't reply beyond a distracted "hmmm," too busy looking through his phone still. Jean does not have, like, nearly that many recent conversations. How does Marco even have time to be a straight-A student and talk to this many people?

 

;;

 

Jean's nose is almost definitely broken this time. 

There are a lot of cool things about the school nurse -- their fashion sense, their insistence that students call them by their first name, their total refusal to bow to parental pressure to pick a gender and stick with it -- but probably the coolest thing about Hange is that they don't ever give Jean shit about how often he ends up in here.

"Poor baby," they coo, poking Jean's nose to see what spot makes him flinch the most, which is probably medically indicated but also possibly because they're a mad scientist. "Unless you want to go get an X-Ray there's no way to say until the swelling goes down, but I think you've got yourself a nice little fracture here. Can you still breathe through it?"

Jean nods pitifully, and takes a fluttering breath in through his nose to demonstrate. "Hurts," he whimpers. Says. Definitely doesn't whimper. 

Hange turns away to the counter to prep something that is hopefully sterile and perhaps made of gauze and generally not sharp because these things have happened before and Jean has crossed med school off his list of possible futures because he _does not want to know_. That's when the door flies open.

"It's still attached!" a voice says triumphantly, and when Jean's eyes adjust to the bright light of the hallway flooding the dimmer nurse's office, he sees a boy standing in the doorway. He's about Jean's height, probably, with incredibly messy brown hair and big green eyes -- like, huge, what the fuck kind of weird anime mutant is he? -- and one hand wrapped around the wrist of the other, holding it aloft like a trophy. Jean assumes all the blood is coming from the one being held, but as both hands are _drenched_ in it it's hard to tell.

( _He's cute_ , Jean's brain remarks. Jean shushes it irritably: he thought he and his brain had agreed to wait until college, where hopefully he'd be getting shoved in lockers less often, to deal with this whole "gay" thing. Also because who the fuck sees someone covered in their own blood and thinks, _I'd tap that_ , seriously?)

Hange sighs. "Oh _Eren_ ," they say. "What did you do _this_ time?"

Jean's so distracted by his dual reactions of _if this kid's here so often why have I never seen him before?_ and _so_ that's _Eren Jaeger_ that he almost doesn't hear Eren's still-triumphant declaration of "Parkour!"

 

;;

 

It would not be an exaggeration to say that after spending half an hour mostly-unsupervised in the nurse's office, while Hange was in the principal's office filling out some sort of unspecified-but-vaguely-menacing paperwork, Jean and Eren became fast friends.

It would be an outright lie.

Jean's never made a friend that quickly in his life.

 

;;

 

"I don't get it," Jean says. His voice is muffled this time because he's face-down in Marco's pillow. Marco has thoughtfully covered the pillow with a hand towel, in case Jean starts randomly bleeding again. He's a good friend. The towel is embroidered with little kittens wearing bows; Jean hopes Mrs Bodt won't be too upset if it gets bloody.

"What don't you get?" Marco asks patiently. He's sitting with his legs dangling off the bed, leaning back against Jean's butt, frowning intently at the TV as he plays Mass Effect. (How does Marco have time to be a straight-A student, text apparently a million people _and_ hang out with Jean, _and_ play video games?) "Wait. Stop. Don't answer. Are you complaining about Eren again?"

Jean lifts his head from the pillow. "I am not complaining about Eren. I just don't get how he --"

"Is a total fuck up, and is still cooler than you? Right, right, I get it." Jean can't see Marco's face, but he knows he's rolling his eyes. "Now shut up; I'm romancing Garrus."

Jean buries his face back in the pillow/hand towel and groans.

 

;;

 

Jean walks by Hange in the hall, and they high-five him as they pass. _I just got a high-five from the school nurse for not getting beat up for an entire week_ , he thinks. _This is my life_.

 

;;

 

"It's a brilliant plan," he finishes.

Marco stares at him. They're sitting on the swings at the playground by Marco's house; it's almost 10pm so there aren't any kids around. Occasionally cops pass by and flash their lights, but as Jean and Marco are clearly huge dweebs who don't drink or do drugs or do anything cool ever, basically, they all keep driving.

"That is the worst plan I have ever heard." He takes a moment to think about it. "No, not ever. The worst plan I have ever heard was --"

He doesn't even finish before Jean visibly flinches, recoiling enough to propel his swing backward. "Please don't," he says. "Please don't bring that up it was sixth grade and also I said I was sorry and we didn't even do it, c'mon, please, let me pretend to have dignity."

Marco doesn't even say anything. Jean realizes he probably never had dignity to begin with, not even the pretend kind.

"First of all," Marco says, and when Jean sees that he's ticking things off on his fingers he flinches again. "You don't even know how to fight. Second of all, I'm pretty sure Eren _does_. Third, he has an inexplicable and obscure but very sincere sense of justice, like some kind of Frank Castle thing except without guns, or at least hopefully without guns, and I don't think he'd respond very well to you just sort of rolling up and punching him.

"Fourth, he's going to be here in like two minutes."

"Wait," Jean says. "What?"

"And fifth, he thinks you're cute too."

" _What_?" Jean shrieks, in a manly and dignified fashion.

He's still stammering when Marco stands up and starts waving at someone further down the park's path. 

It's not long later that Eren jogs up to the playground and wipes a faint sheen of sweat from his forehead. "Hey, Marco. This place is further from my house than I thought," he says, apologetically before turning to look at Jean. "What's up, Kirschtein? How's your nose?"

The question _should_ be mocking, Jean _wants_ it to be, but somehow it sounds entirely sincere and also Eren's smile is bright enough to light up the whole playground and oh god, Jean wants to crawl under the jungle gym and die.

"Good," he says tremulously. "Healed, mostly."

"He won't bleed out on you, I promise," Marco says, looking at Eren but clapping Jean soundly on the back. "Ok, my work here is done. Jean, try not to faint or insult Eren too badly. Eren, please kiss him so he stops complaining to me about how awesome you are. I'm gonna go do my homework."

He walks down the path, and Jean and Eren both stare after him until even his silhouette is no longer visible. Eren turns to look at Jean; Jean slumps down in his swing.

"Um," Jean says succinctly.

"Yeah," Eren agrees. After a moment, he takes the swing next to Jean, kicking his feet idly. "So …"

"Yeah," Jean says.

Eren turns to him, and there's that blinding grin again. "I didn't know you were gay. Or like, into dudes," he says.

"I knew you were a huge dick," Jean snaps, and then looks at Eren wide-eyed. "Oh my god," he says. "That was the worst comeback. That was the worst thing I could have said in this context. I'm so sorry."

Eren curls in on himself, and for a moment Jean is terrified that Eren is going to spring at him like some sort of a wild animal. He digs his heels into the woodchips beneath his feet. It's not until after Eren has already stood up and moved to face Jean that he realizes Eren had been _laughing_. 

Eren grips the chains of the swing just above where Jean's hands clutch the links. "Marco was right," Eren says, the corner of his mouth still twitching with laughter. "You're a fucking loser." 

Jean is still formulating a protest when Eren leans down to kiss him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> literally 100% of what i know about the mass effect series is that i would totally bang garrus.


	6. touch (trainee days)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He looked, for a moment, as though he was going to offer his hand to shake, but he didn't.

Things had changed between them, somehow. 

It had started off small: Eren admitted, grudgingly, that Jean had beat him in a training exercise. It had been a matter of a second, maybe two, but normally he'd contest that sort of thing no matter how many people had been watching. This time Mikasa hadn't even had to give him a look, he'd just sighed and shuffled his feet before saying "Good flight, Jean." He looked, for a moment, as though he was going to offer his hand to shake, but he didn't. 

They got in a fight -- which didn't happen as often as people made it out to happen, but maybe more often than anyone else did -- and Eren…. It was weird. He wasn't pulling any punches, exactly, but despite the fierce look on his face it didn't seem like his heart was in it. Either way, when Shadis broke it up he assigned them to laundry duty, and without even saying anything Eren had taken a seat at the tub. They didn't talk, but Jean really just had to hang clothes on the line to dry, and occasionally fetch Eren more soap.

Every year on the anniversary of the attack on Shiganshina, Eren was angrier than ever. Everyone -- even Mikasa, who claimed it wasn't worth engaging, and Armin, who said it was best to let him rage -- would avoid him. But there was one day where he just withdrew, hid in the barracks and wouldn't talk to anyone. Shadis threatened to dock his meals, but Eren just shrugged: he wasn't going to the mess hall anyway. 

Reiner caught Jean hovering in the door to the barracks and put a hand on his shoulder. It was Eren's mom's birthday, he told Jean, and Jean remembered the steely glare in Eren's eyes, his clenched fists, when he'd told everyone how his mother had died. Jean wasn't sure why Reiner knew when Eren's mom's birthday was -- wasn't sure why Reiner knew why Eren was sad, when Jean didn't.

The next day, Eren emerged red-eyed but angry as ever, fists clenched against his sides. Jean put a hand on his shoulder -- from behind, which was his mistake. Eren swung around, fists up, and Jean took a step back. He stepped forward, once he was pretty sure Eren wasn't going to punch him in the face, and put his hand on Eren's shoulder again. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, and walked away before Eren could change his mind and punch him after all. 

"Wait!" Eren called, and Jean paused. "Thanks," Eren said. Jean turned, and smiled, and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was originally my entry for day 1 (flirting) but halfway through writing it i sort of sighed and said "well actually..." (day 1's entry would also have made a pretty solid day 3 (denial), but day 3's really wouldn't have gone anywhere else, and thus we are not brought full circle and also this note is unnecessarily long.)


	7. celebration (the cool gays table)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I forgive you," she said into his neck. He could feel the heat of her breath, and for a moment he forgot what they'd been fighting about, forgot that they'd been fighting at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooooo i dubbed this one "cheating" because
> 
> a) it is several days late;  
> b) it does deal with infidelity; but mostly  
> c) because i'm a moron who doesn't know how ao3 works, and realized too late that making this a chaptered work rather than a series meant i couldn't link this entry to both my jeaneren week stuff AND the hsau series it's a part of. so. if you ACTUALLY want to read this chapter, it is [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1442482)!
> 
> also d) that means this is going to show up as an updated fic on ao3 PLUS the actual fic will show up so i feel like kind of an attention hog as well as feeling dumb uh
> 
> here's a picture of my cat

what a cute shit amirite


End file.
